The Wasteland
by Issy
Summary: The final days of the Second War against Voldemort, beginning in April 1998, told in five parts. 'I had not thought death had undone so many.' Dante, Inferno OBSOLETED BY HBP
1. The Burial Of The Dead

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Nope, not me.

A/N: My new project. The defeat of Voldemort, in five parts. I think each part probably gets a little more interesting than the last.

This is set in the same universe as _'The Space Between The Stars' _- meaning it is _OotP compatible_.

You don't have to have read _'The Space Between The Stars' _to understand this, though it will give it greater depth. However, if you can't be bothered, there is a quick summary of my original characters who you will come across in this story, though they don't play very big roles, at the end of this chapter.

However, if you want to understand some of the plot points - ie. why Sirius is still alive and all when I say this story is OotP compatible - you will have to read '_The Space Between The Stars.'_

Obviously I am nicking a lot of stuff from TS Eliot's modernist epic 'The Wasteland.' Read it. It's good. Even if you read it, you won't understand it - no-one really does - but read it anyway.

I'll shut up now.

Oh, reviews are nice. Very nice.

****

Part I - The Burial Of The Dead

__

'That corpse you planted last year in your garden,

'Has it begun to sprout? Will it bloom this year?

'Or has the sudden frost disturbed its bed?

'Oh keep the Dog far hence, that's friend to men,

'Or with his nails he'll dig it up again!

'You! hypocrite lecteur!—mon semblable,—mon frère!'

- TS Eliot, The Wasteland, Part I, The Burial Of The Dead

Hogwarts, April 1998

I've always liked the colour black, Sirius thought, _but not this time._

Not this time.

This time, it mattered that it was the colour assigned to Voldemort, to the Death Eaters, to death. This time, it mattered that it was the surname of his accursed family. This time, it mattered.

No stars would shine now, and the spaces between would be dull, for the great light was gone. There was no sun. There could be no dawn now.

Dumbledore was dead.

The old man lay on the table in the staffroom, hands folded on his chest in a mockery of peace, his blue eyes shut in mimicry of serenity. But there was blood, blood, so much blood. It had poured in little rivers across his face, his body, but had dried hard, in black lines, like someone had taken to him with a quill and a pot of black ink.

Black.

"Oh no," Sirius murmured. "Merlin help us, no."

"Call the Order of the Phoenix," Severus snapped to no-one in particular. "Call them!"

Sirius felt himself moving away from the table and the clustered staff, away from the memory of lost life. "I'll do it," he heard himself say distantly.

There was a hand on his arm. "No, Sirius," Minerva McGonagall said heavily, "I'll do it. This is... my duty now."

Sirius stood back and let her pass. As his old mentor walked slowly towards the fire, he felt his heart break. What hope could there be now? Dumbledore was dead. McGonagall was Headmistress now... and she was a fine witch, but... Sirius looked and he did not see the fine witch. What he saw was an old woman, bowed with grief, who walked with a limp these days and had a bad heart.

"What... can we do?" he asked faintly. "What is it... that we should do?"

"Mourn," Professor Virdis answered softly from her place beside Severus. "We must grieve."

"We do not have the time to mourn," Severus said sharply. "The students must be made safe. We must prepare for war."

"What kind of war can we make without him?" Professor Flitwick asked softly.

No-one answered.

__

Silence is not golden, Sirius thought. _Silence is black._

Professor McGonagall made her way back to the table. "They're coming," she said heavily.

The room thrummed, and then there were little pops, like popcorn in a pan, as various members of the Order of the Phoenix Portkeyed into the room. Kingsley Shacklebolt, Fred and George Weasley, Nymphadora Tonks, Bill Weasley, his wife Helena a second later with her small son Valerius in her arms, Hestia Jones, Alastor Moody, Remus and Aemilia Lupin... more came after them, the pops like gunshots to Sirius's ears, but not enough. They had lost so many. Charlie Weasley would never return to his dragons in Romania, nor Dedalus Diggle to his small shop in Diagon Alley. The death toll was so long. Emmeline Vance, Alicia Spinnet, Aberforth Dumbledore...

Cedric Diggory.

James and Lily Potter.

Regina Lupin.

__

Albus Dumbledore.

He was dimly aware of the gasps from the Order as the ring of teachers broke and they saw the body, lying ignominiously on the table. Felt their hearts drop as his own had, to crash and shatter on the ground in millions of pieces.

Dumbledore was dead.

Dumbledore was _dead_.

"What has happened here?"

He did not know who had spoken. Aemilia, perhaps, or Helena. He could only feel the tears begin to trickle down his face as McGonagall told, in halting words, the story of the last, glorious moments of Albus Dumbledore.

__

April is the cruellest month, breeding lilacs out of the dead land...

The Death Eaters at the gates. The wards buckling, crackling. Dumbledore touching his arm.

__

"Stay here. You must guard the children. Guard Harry. I will go down to them."

The last words he had ever spoken to him.

Herding all the students of Hogwarts into the Room of Requirement. He needed a safe place to hide them, safe from Voldemort, and the room provided. The teachers were supposed to stay outside to guard them, but Sirius and Severus had shared a glance and known that they could not.

The steps of Hogwarts, then, watching, powerless. Two dark haired men, seemingly carved on granite, the witnesses.

Alone Dumbledore fought them, knowing he could not win, knowing there were too many, knowing that only Harry Potter could defeat what Tom Riddle had become, and yet fighting anyway. A true Gryffindor.

To the end.

They had been routed. Hogwarts was safe, but... at a terrible price.

Dumbledore was dead.

__

What branches grow out of this stony rubbish?

"What can we do?" Molly Weasley asked in a small voice. "What is there that can be done?"

"We must take the children to safety," Severus said sharply.

"We have done it."

A new voice now. Sirius looked up.

"Harry?"

§ § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § §

They all looked so... despondent. Harry clenched his teeth and wrapped his hand round his wand tighter. He knew he would grieve for Dumbledore, would cry for him - one day.

But now, he was not sad. He was _angry._

How _dare_ Voldemort kill Dumbledore? How _dare_ he?

"We have done it," he repeated. "The students - most of them, anyway - are safe."

He stepped further into the room, and they followed him. His pupils, his soldiers, his friends, his family.

Dumbledore's Army. Every single member.

__

I will show you fear in a handful of dust.

"And we are here to _fight_."

§ § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § §

REVIEW!

A summary of my original characters. They're not very important to the plot, but have some background anyway. When I set them all out like this they do sound like I've had a bit of a Mary Sue fest, but they're all very different characters who are drawn very differently and are very, very far from perfect. _The Space Between The Stars_ is, I believe, testimony to that.

****

Aemilia Lupin (nee Fudge) - Cornelius Fudge's daughter, she is a lawyer and she had him impeached in the course of _The Space Between The Stars._ The Wizengamot elected her Hogwarts sweetheart Remus Lupin in his place, upon which occasion he promptly proposed to her. They got married sometime between the end of _The Space Between The Stars_ (ie. beginning of Harry's sixth year) and now (April of Harry's seventh year)

****

Helena Weasley (nee Seraphim) - The High Priestess of the Arachniae (a religious order devoted to the goddess Arachne, virtually wiped out by Voldemort in the summer between Harry's fifth and sixth years), she had a brief dalliance with Severus Snape during _The Space Between The Stars,_ which resulted in her falling pregnant. However, she married Bill Weasley (Case #2 of Hogwarts Sweetheart Syndrome) and her son with Snape, Valerius, has also taken his name.

****

Regina Lupin - Remus's younger sister. A year below the Marauders and Co. at Hogwarts, she was brilliant at Potions and often worked outside of normal classes with Snape, who liked her very much. Unfortunately, Sirius also 'liked her very much', which is another reason why Sirius and Severus hated each other (they have a reconciliation of sorts at the end of _The Space Between The Stars_). Like Helena, she was one of the Arachniae, though not High Priestess. Before her year in seclusion at Telae Domus (the stronghold of the Arachniae) she slept with Sirius and in March of 1980 gave birth to a daughter, Psyche. However, her criminally insane mother Arethusa wanted some of the secrets of the Arachniae and when Regina refused, pushed her through the veil (yes, _that_ veil) and left Psyche on the doorstep of a Muggle family with a new name - Hermione.

****

Niamh Virdis - Only mentioned right at the end of _The Space Between The Stars._ Hogwarts' new Ancient Runes teacher (Sirius is the Defence Against The Dark Arts professor), she may or may not have something going on with Snape.

So. Review.

If you haven't reviewed _The Space Between The Stars_ and its one-shot companion _Jerusalem,_ review them too.

Review, and Part II will come faster.


	2. A Game Of Chess

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Nope, not me.

A/N: Many thanks to the people that reviewed the last chapter. This one is longer... I think they'll be getting exponentially longer as I go along. Part V will probably be some sort of novel. Who knows? I had one comment say Part I was short and another it was too long. Interesting.

Cerulane - of course you can translate it! It makes me feel so important... and from what I can tell, you're doing a fabulous job on _L'espace entre les é toiles_!

The first part was dark. I think, overall, it will be pretty dark, though I'm trying to work in a bit of the lighter cadence I had with _The Space Between The Stars _as well. However, when you're working from TS Eliot, darkness seems to prevail. Especially when it's _The Wasteland_. And yes, I killed Dumbledore. I'm a vile assassin.

For those who read _The Space Between The Stars - _we have a bit of Aemilia and a bit of Helena on here. The conversation between Aemilia and Remus in the Minister of Magic's office is my favourite part of the fic so far. Ten points to anyone who can guess why...

****

Part II - A Game Of Chess

__

'What is that noise?'

The wind under the door.

'What is that noise now? What is the wind doing?'

Nothing again nothing.

'Do

'You know nothing? Do you see nothing? Do you remember

'Nothing?'

I remember

Those are pearls that were his eyes.

'Are you alive, or not? Is there nothing in your head?'

- TS Eliot, The Wasteland, Part II, A Game Of Chess

****

12 Grimmauld Place, April 1998

Remus Lupin, Minister for Magic, dressed in scarlet and gold robes, colours he had chosen as symbols of his office, felt strangely cowardly. _A weakling wrapped in gold and scarlet, Gryffindor colours hiding the monster and the coward inside._

Well, no. Not _strangely_ at all.

__

We shouldn't be letting them do this, he thought.

Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley were making some sort of presentation about possible strategy for the war. Neither were particularly good speakers - Ron would have sudden flashes of inspiration and start talking over Hermione, which would fluster her and make her lose her place - but even Severus, who, despite all that had happened, still loathed them both, was nodding in agreement every now and then.

The room that the Order of the Phoenix had used for meetings had once been so empty. Members were killed in the battles against Voldemort and the Death Eaters, and not everyone could return from beyond like Sirius Black had. No-one came to replace them.

Now the room was full... though the Order of the Phoenix had not grown.

Now Dumbledore's Army fought alongside them, advised them, helped them, led them. And Dumbledore's Army were... children.

Some of them were legal adults. Remus would give them that. Angelina Johnson, for one, had been in her seventh year when Harry had founded the Army. But so many of them were young, young, so young.

Not one of them was over twenty.

__

"We are here to fight," Harry had said.

And they had let them.

They had let them.

__

Sweet Merlin, Remus thought, _what would Dumbledore say if he saw what his precious Order had become?_

I think we are in rat's alley where the dead men lost their bones...

Aemilia's hand slipped into his. "Pay attention," she whispered, pushing a strand of black hair behind her ear.

"...and this, we think, is his weakest point," Remus heard Hermione say. "If we attack him here - and here -"

"No, no, we don't have the numbers to do that," Ron interrupted. "We've got to think about this almost like a game of chess, I think. Strategically, we need to do the unexpected -"

"The most unexpected thing we could do is have them attack themselves," Luna Lovegood chimed in absentmindedly, from where she was sitting beside Neville in a corner.

Remus saw Ginny Weasley's eyes widen. "No," she breathed. "The most unexpected thing we could do is attack them with people they thought were dead."

Neville brightened. "Hermione, is there any way that we can conjure - I dunno, golems, or something?"

Harry Potter stood.

The room fell silent. It almost always did when Harry indicated he wanted to speak. Dumbledore's Army had huge amounts of respect for him as their commander, and the Order as the Boy-Who-Lived - though Remus suspected that somewhere in there was a modicum of fear. Harry Potter was an incredibly powerful wizard.

"The papers," he said.

"What papers?" Hermione asked, notes for her speech forgotten.

"My parents' papers," Harry answered. "The one we had the lawsuit over. The ones Voldemort wanted. The ones about the magic of life and death."

Remus stood. "No, Harry!"

Harry turned his green eyes on him, and Remus was frightened to see how much coldness lay in them. "Why not?" he asked coolly.

Remus closed his eyes for a moment and exhaled sharply. "Harry," he said at last, "that's necromancy. I won't let you become a necromancer. I won't let you!"

"Even if it wins us the war?" Harry shot back.

"May I speak?" Helena Weasley said, handing her son to Bill and standing. She was wearing the white robe that indicated her status as High Priestess of the Arachniae.

Remus, who had been about to retort, closed his mouth. "Certainly," he acknowledged.

"I have not seen the papers of Lily and James Potter," Helena said, "but I think it is safe to be at least reasonably sure that a lot of the information in them comes from the Libri of Life and Death, books that the Arachniae used to keep at Telae Domus until it was attacked by Voldemort, leading to their immolation." She took a deep breath. "I have read the Libri. The magic therein... it is eldritch magic. Wight magic. It is the magic... the magic beneath what we do here, I suppose. More basic. Elemental. But, more importantly, it is impossible to bring someone back from the dead _permanently._ It is possible to keep them here indefinitely by repeating the ritual, but... depending on the strength and depth of that person's soul, they will be weaker every time it is performed, until they eventually fade away. Nature takes precedence, and we cannot cheat her for long. Also..."

"Also?" Harry prompted.

"It would take a lot of energy to sustain them here," Helena said. "We would need to find the appropriate members of a coterie - unless Lily and James found a way of circumventing this issue."

Harry turned his green eyes on his godfather. "Sirius, the papers are in your vault. My parents left them to you." He did not speak the question. He did not have to.

Remus could see the struggle in Sirius's face. He knew that Sirius did not want Harry to have to fight, or any of the others. But... all that it would bring back... even if just for a while.

Dumbledore.

Lily and James.

__

Regina.

"Sirius?" Harry asked.

Sirius closed his eyes. "All right," he said hoarsely.

__

And we shall play a game of chess, pressing lidless eyes and waiting for a knock upon the door.

Remus bowed his head. Harry had pushed them from the edge now.

Would they fly?

§ § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § §

"Remus?"

Head bowed, writing furiously.

"Remus?"

Ink stains on his desk - on the Minister of Magic's desk. Black ink.

Dumbledore's body covered with black blood, like black ink.

"Remus?"

__

Three times is magic.

"Aemilia," he acknowledged hoarsely.

She came and sat beside him, taking his left hand in both of hers. "Remus, you're..."

He smiled weakly at her. "My nerves are bad tonight," he offered.

Her dark eyes were sad. "Yes, bad," she said softly.

He tried to offer her some comfort - but what comfort could there be when Dumbledore was dead and Harry Potter determined to become a necromancer? "Stay with me."

She nodded.

Silence.

"Speak to me," she said at last.

He said nothing.

"Why do you never speak?"

He could not.

"Speak."

There was nothing to say.

"What are you thinking of?"

He shook his head, trying to clear it. "What thinking? What?"

She was crying now, tears falling silently down her face. "I never know what you are thinking."

"Think," he told her.

For what else was there to think about other than the withered stumps of time?

§ § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § §

"You're... really going to do this, Harry?" Hermione asked timidly, when the leaders of Dumbledore's Army gathered after the Order meeting.

Harry squared his jaw. "Yes," he said firmly.

Ron sat down. "I think it's a brilliant idea," he affirmed.

__

I do, he added mentally. _If you think about it like a game of chess... it's like getting a pawn across the board and having it turn into a second queen._

"It's just..." Hermione said. "Playing with causality... that's dangerous."

"So is going to war against Voldemort," Ginny spoke up.

"I'm just... uneasy," Hermione said. "That's all."

__

Hurry up please it's time.

Ron looked at her nervously twitching fingers, put two and two together, and thought he might have come up with five.

§ § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § §

"Hermione?"

He found her, later on, sitting on the edge of her bed, a book in her hands, but she was not reading.

"Hermione?"

She was crying.

"Hermione?"

__

Three times is magic.

Her shoulders were shaking. "Ron - Ron, I -"

He put an arm around her shoulders. "Hey, it's all right," he said gently. "I - I think I understand."

Hermione looked at him somewhat surprisedly. "You - you do?"

"You're scared of seeing her again, aren't you? Miss Lupin. Your... mum."

Hermione nodded glumly. "I -"

"You don't have to say anything if you don't want to," Ron reassured her.

"It's been hard enough patching up stuff with Sirius," Hermione said a few moments later, burrowing her head into his shoulder. "With her... because... well, because she never knew me as _Hermione_... it's... harder. It sounds horrible, but... but it was almost a relief when she died, because then I didn't have to deal with it any more. And now..."

"Now you do," Ron finished for her.

"Yes."

Ron realised, guiltily, that sometimes there were ramifications in the game of chess. _To get your pawn across the board and make it a queen,_ he thought, _sometimes you have to sacrifice other pieces along the way._

"I - I don't know what to say," he admitted.

"Just being here is enough, Ron. Thankyou," she said.

__

So long, Jerusalem.

Good night, ladies, good night, sweet ladies, good night, good night.

§ § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § §

REVIEW!

Part III, _The Fire Sermon_, should be out in a couple of days...


	3. The Fire Sermon

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Nope, not me.

A/N: First of all, thanks muchly to all those that reviewed!

I'm afraid no-one got the ten points for why Remus and Aemilia's conversation was my favourite. You were all guessing such deep, meaningful things that I feel rather shallow now! No, I liked it because I lifted it straight out of TS Eliot's _The Wasteland_, and it _worked_. It really showed how dysfunctional that relationship has become... ah, angst!

More angst this chapter, which features the perspectives of Severus and Hermione. We have gratuitous Helena and a bit of Niamh, whom we don't really know a lot about. The scene with Helena besides the river is also one of my favourites... but there's no real reason, other than I think it works nicely as a scene!

A note to other authors out there - you are quite welcome to play around with characters and events from the universe of _The Space Between The Stars_. I'd just ask that you let me know first, so I can:

a) Check that the characters are in character, and;

b) Read it!

I'll shut up now. Here it is, Part III!

****

Part III - The Fire Sermon

__

But at my back from time to time I hear

The sound of horns and motors, which shall bring

Sweeney to Mrs. Porter in the spring.

O the moon shone bright on Mrs. Porter

And on her daughter

They wash their feet in soda water

Et, O ces voix d'enfants, chantant dans la coupole!

- TS Eliot, The Wasteland, Part III, The Fire Sermon

The Thames, April, 1998

Severus Snape, Deputy Headmaster of Hogwarts, walked.

He shouldn't be here, of course. He should be at Hogwarts, helping McGonagall guard the students, or with Voldemort, gathering information, or even with Sirius Black and Harry Potter, who had gone to retrieve the papers from Gringotts.

But he wasn't. He was here, in the cruel month of April, walking beside the Thames.

He saw a rat creeping through the vegetation at the river's edge, dragging its slimy belly on the bank, and wondered idly if it were Pettigrew. It would be terribly ironic if it was. He was the only member of the Order who could not kill Pettigrew, because he was supposed to be on Pettigrew's side.

But, no, this rat had both paws and all its toes. Just a rat. Just a rat.

__

Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song.

"Hello, Severus."

He turned. The last fingers of leaves clutched and sank into the wet bank. "Hello, Helena."

She was wearing Muggle clothes today, white as always, her golden hair pinned up on the back of her head, but despite it, she still exuded the inexplicable splendour of Ionian white and gold. Valerius was in his pram, sleeping.

"What are you doing here?" Severus asked her.

She smiled. "Escaping from trams and dusty trees. Richmond and Kew have undone me. What about you?"

"Walking," he answered. "Only walking."

"Not thinking?"

"Walking and thinking."

__

Sweet Thames, run softly, for I speak neither loud nor long.

"About...?"

"Everything."

Silence. Uncomfortable silence.

"How is Niamh?"

__

Well now that's done: and I'm glad it's over.

"Niamh? Oh... fine. Fine."

"It must be hard."

"What?"

"Being in love. In a time where there is no love to be found."

Her eyes were downcast as she stared into the river. It bore no empty bottles, sandwich papers, silk handkerchiefs, cardboard boxes, cigarette ends or other testimony of summer nights.

"You are in the same position as me," he said gently.

She looked up and smiled, ever so slightly. "I suppose I am."

Valerius woke up and began to cry. Helena took his out of his pram and began to shush him.

Severus could not help but stare.

This music crept by me on the waters.

His son. His son, that he did not know, and never would not know.

Valerius _Weasley._

Helena caught him looking. Her eyes met his. "Would you..."

"Yes?"

"Would you... like to hold him?"

Severus found himself nodding. "I would... like that very much."

__

By the waters of Leman I sat down and wept...

Valerius was surprisingly heavy in his arms. Severus could not help but stare at the tiny face, with dark eyes so like his. "How old is he now?" he asked Helena.

"He just turned one," she answered.

Valerius blew a bubble. "Jug jug jug," he said.

Severus smiled. "Jug jug jug to you too."

"You could..." Helena began, then stopped. "You could... come and visit him sometimes at our place in Richmond... if you like."

Severus's heart was melting. His son. His _son. _He smiled. "That would be... nice."

"And... perhaps... I could bring him to visit you sometimes. In the holidays, when you're not at Hogwarts. At your house in Margate Sands."

"I... would like that."

Silence. Personable silence.

Valerius gurgled. "Twit twit twit."

"You... you had better take him back now," Severus said reluctantly, offering Valerius to Helena like a precious gift.

"Yes," Helena said, taking her son.

The wind crossed the brown land, unheard.

§ § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § §

Niamh was waiting for him when he got back to Grimmauld Place. "Hello, Severus," she said, standing on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. "Sirius and Harry are back."

"Do they have the papers?" he asked, hanging his coat.

"They do," she affirmed. "Come on."

She took his hand.

He wondered how such a lovely woman could ever have stooped to the folly of loving him.

__

Three times is magic.

Unreal.

§ § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § §

The papers were spread out on the table. Careful, straight lines of James Potter's handwriting marched on some, Lily's fluid cursive looped across the page in others. Hermione's eyes met Harry's across the table.

"This is going to be very, very hard," she told him.

"But we _are_ going to do it," Harry replied.

"Where are we going to find a coterie?" Neville asked despondently. "I don't even know what that is."

"It's a group of wizards or witches that acts as a power pool or a conduit," Hermione answered. "There is one person for each element - earth, fire, water, air, and spirit."

"And only a very few people are ever capable of doing it," Ginny said gloomily.

"Wizards _or_ witches?" Ron asked. "Not _and_?"

Hermione nodded. "The four physical elements all have to be the same sex," she answered. "Four wizards or four witches. Then the spirit person has to be the opposite."

"Why?" Ron asked.

Hermione shrugged. "It's not important. What's important is that we find the right people, if we are going to pull this off."

"How do we do that?" Neville asked.

Hermione pulled a page of Lily's notes towards her.

__

'Elemental powers can be divined by the colour of their thread on the Tapestry. Instead of being coloured, their threads are white. The only known elemental witch today is Diana, a priestess of the third circle.'

"The colour of their thread on the Tapestry?" she mused aloud. "What does that mean?"

Harry and Ron shared a glance, but said nothing. Hermione's head snapped up. "What?" she asked them.

Ron fidgeted uncomfortably. "In Gringotts... that time... when..."

"When Regina was killed. That time." The voice came from a dark corner.

Hermione looked up. "Sirius...?"

Sirius stepped into the light. He looked much older than he ever had before. His jaw was clenched in a manner Hermione recognised as her own. "When Regina died in Gringotts," he went on in a softer voice, "it was because she touched the Tapestry."

Hermione tried desperately to get thoughts of Regina out of her head. "But what is the Tapestry?"

"The record of history as sewn by Arachne," Sirius answered. "Every person has a thread. Regina..." He closed his eyes for a moment. "Regina ripped a whole hank of threads out of it to save us in Gringotts."

__

Oh Lord Thou pluckest me out...

"But how did she see it?" Hermione asked. She had heard something like this story, but had not wanted to believe it. Had not wanted to make Regina Lupin glorious in her mind. Had not listened.

__

Oh Lord Thou pluckest...

"Stand back," Sirius warned. Hermione could see the tears about to fall in his eyes, did not want to see.

__

I can connect nothing with nothing.

Sirius pointed his wand at the table. "_Vestis Acclaro!_"

The air shimmered, inimical forces coalescing.

And the Tapestry was revealed.

§ § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § §

The Tapestry, created by the Moerae and woven by Arachne. The Tapestry into which all lives, mortal and eldritch, were sown. Before them, summoned by the lover of Arachne's greatest daughter, it shone, material in a material world, beautiful, terrible, fate, destiny.

__

Weialala leia...

Hermione shivered, closed her eyes, and tried to bring herself back down to earth. "Right," she said matter-of-factly. "White threads. Can anyone see any?"

"There are five," Luna Lovegood said dreamily.

"Where?" Hermione asked. "How do tell who they are?" _Maybe Professor Trelawney was right when she said I had a mundane mind,_ she thought.

Ron had a strange look on his face. "Here," he said, pointing at a group of white threads clustered together.

__

Wallala leialala...

"Who are they?" Hermione asked. "How do you tell?"

Ron was practically sheet-white now. "I don't know how you tell," he answered, "but I know who they are."

"Who?" Harry asked.

"Luna," Ron began. "She's air."

"And?" Harry prompted.

"Water is..." Ron cast a glance over his shoulder. "Water is Cho."

Hermione saw Cho tense where she stood next to Michael Corner. "Me?" she whispered almost inaudibly.

"Fire is Ginny," Ron went on.

Ginny did not say anything, but Hermione noticed her knuckles were white.

Ron looked at Hermione. "Earth is you, Hermione," he said quietly. "And Spirit... Spirit is me."

__

To Carthage then I came...

...burning.

§ § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § §

REVIEW!

A quick note on why I equated these five characters with the elements:

Ron/Spirit: Mostly to do with what happened in the Department of Mysteries - ie. Ron and _Accio brain!_ He got his hands coated in thoughts, memories... spirits... Also, it's a new spin on the Seer!Ron theory.

Hermione/Earth: Hermione is one of the most grounded characters in the books, constantly bringing Ron and Harry back to reality. One good example of this is her comment to Harry that he has a 'saving-people thing'.

Luna/Air: She's so dreamy and mystical and never there... what else could she be but air! I believe JK Rowling uses the adjective 'wispy' to describe her as well...

Cho/Water: This is my weakest link, I feel... after Hermione, Ginny and Luna, she's the girl that has been closest to Harry in the books... and she's always crying. Cho Chang, the 'human hosepipe'.

Ginny/Fire: Quite apart from the red hair and the quick temper, the name 'Ginny' sounds a lot like 'djinn' - the fire angels/demons of Arabic mythology.

Part IV, _Death By Water,_ should be out in a couple of days... in the meantime, I suggest everyone should read TS Eliot's fabulous poem _The Wasteland_ from which I am copiously borrowing for this fic. Why? Because it is good...


	4. Death By Water

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Nope, not me.

A/N: Well, I don't have a whole lot to say today, except that this part is substantially longer than the first three have been, and Part V, which I will post in a few days, is longer yet... This would have been posted yesterday, but ff.net decided it would be fun to crash...

I only had nine lines of TS Eliot's _The Wasteland_ to work with this time - _Death By Water _is by far the shortest section in the poem! - but I think I did all right. No particular favourite sections this time, though I am enjoying writing Remus and Aemilia.

Some of the poems from _The Space Between The Stars_ make a return today - the chant to banish unseelie wights and Helena's claim to the status of High Priestess. I wrote the latter but not the former, which I found in Cecilia Dart-Thornton's _Bitterbynde_ trilogy, though I think she nicked it from somewhere older.

Someone asked about what Harry's role is now that Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Cho and Luna have formed the coterie. My answer is this: Harry has an even more important part to play in bringing the dead back. The coterie are a kind of power source - Harry works the magic. Throughout this chapter, you'll see him referred to as the Necromancer - Harry does the actual magic, he just sources it in the coterie.

So much for me not having much to say! Reviews are very nice, so let's have lots, and I will shut up now.

****

Part IV - Death By Water

Gentile or Jew

O you who turn the wheel and look to windward,

Consider Phlebas, who was once handsome and tall as you.

- TS Eliot, The Wasteland, Part IV, Death By Water

Telae Domus, May, 1998

Helena was the first to arrive at Telae Domus.

Valerius started to cry in her arms. He hated it when she Apparated with him more than anything in the world. "Shhh, shhh, shhh," she said soothingly.

It always made her depressed whenever she came back here. Depressed first, and then despairing - so much destruction! so much death! - but this time, she vowed she would not despair.

Bill Apparated in next to her. "What do we need to do?"

She handed him Valerius. "Just keep him happy," she said. "I will do the rest."

Telae Domus. The Home of the Spider. Place of a thousand dreams. Dreams that had been trapped like flies in Voldemort's sticky web. He had eaten Diana, Lily, Regina, Aralinda...

...but she would not let him eat death.

She clapped her hands once, twice, three times to ward off evil spirits. Three times was magic, after all. Then she began to chant.

"_Hypericum, salt and bread,_

"Iron cold and berry red,

"Self-bored stone and daisy bright,

"Save me from unseelie wight."

"_Red verbena, amber, bell,_

"Turned-out raiment, ash as well,

"Whistle tunes and rowan-tree,

"Running water, succour me."

"_Rooster with your cock-a-doo,_

"Banish wights and darkness too."

No unseelie wight would come here. She hoped.

Helena wondered if she could have done what Regina did. Torn a hank out of the Tapestry, knowing she would die, knowing she would have to lose all the people she loved - for the second time, no less - and yet doing it anyway.

I gave up my sister, she thought, _but I do not think I could not give up myself. That would be... giving up everyone._

Valerius. Bill. Even Severus, in his own way, was dear to her.

"Are you finished?" Bill asked, rocking Valerius. "Do you need me to put up wards, or anything?"

Helena shook her head. "No wards. Not at Telae Domus."

"But -"

"We do not need them here."

She closed her eyes. _Come to me, come to me, come to me..._

"Come then, and meet me

"In the Land Upon the Waves

"And we shall harvest the apples

"That are under the sea

"I am Telae Domus of the blood, dark battle host

"I am the people of free companions

"I am the torc of gold, brighter than the sun

"I am the hero's light, the flame of courage on the brow

"I am fír flámethon, lady's truth

"Through me

"Darkness yields to light

"Sorrow to joy

"I am a breaker threatening doom

"The boar-champion, ruthless and red

"I am the tomb of your hope

"I am the daughter of Arachne, lady of weavers

"I am Helena, High Priestess!"

"Lady."

She opened her eyes. She heard Bill's swift intake of breath. "What is your name?"

The eldritch dark haired man bowed his head to her in acknowledgement. He was Sirius Black and Severus Snape rolled into one and made divine. "I am Arawn," he answered. "I am the Lord of Annwn, the Otherworld. I am the King of Seelie Wights. I am the Protector of Telae Domus."

She could not help it. She had to ask. "Why did you let them die? Why did you let Telae Domus fall?"

"So the Arachniae could be reborn from the ashes," he answered. "Stronger. Better."

Phoenix.

"This is fír flámethon, lady's truth," Helena said.

"What do you desire?"

"Your protection, and your blessing. Necromancy will be performed here this day."

"You would call back the dead?"

"There is no other way."

"And what will you give me, for this blessing?"

She bowed her head.

Forget the cry of gulls.

There was always a price to pay.

Forget the deep sea swells.

She looked up. "I will give you whatever you desire."

Forget the profit and the loss.

"Would you give me your husband?"

She drew a deep breath. "Yes."

"Would you give me your son?"

"Yes."

"Would you give me yourself?"

Helena closed her eyes. "Yes," she whispered.

She felt fingers on her face as Arawn forced her to look at him. "Then none of these shall you have to give," he told her gently, "and my protection and my blessing will be yours."

She had passed the test.

§ § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § §

Helena Weasley was talking to a dark haired man, her red haired husband standing some distance away, when Niamh and Severus Apparated into Telae Domus. "What's going on?" she whispered.

Severus was staring at Helena and the man. "That's a wight," he replied.

Niamh shifted closer to him. She was an academic, a translator. The notion of wights - creatures animated by magic instead of life - terrified her beyond belief. _My mother dealt with them,_ she thought, _and look where that got her. Dead._ She blinked back a tear. The death was too recent, too near, her heart still bleeding.

But today was a day of necromancy, and maybe she would see her mother, after all.

There were more pops behind them as more and more of the Order and the DA began to Apparate into the clearing. Niamh shut it out and clung to Severus's hand. He did not seem to notice. He was staring at Helena.

Jealousy.

A needle - so red hot with envy she could almost physically feel it - pierced her heart. Helena. Helena. Helena.

He... did he...?

She let go of his hand and walked away from him. He did not appear to notice.

"Hello, Bill," she said softly.

He startled slightly, but smiled at her. "Hello, Niamh."

He had the child in his arms. She held out her hands.

"Might I... hold him?"

Bill cast her a strange look, but nodded. "Why not?"

Valerius Weasley. Child of Helena Seraphim and Severus Snape. _No,_ she thought. _Helena Weasley. Weasley._

Valerius had Severus's black eyes, but his hair was golden. She smiled at Bill. "He looks like Helena," she said softly.

A current under sea picked his bones in whispers.

Bill's eyes were full of some indescribable emotion. "Not enough," he murmured. "Not enough."

§ § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § §

Remus was already there when Aemilia arrived.

She did not go to him.

She never knew what to say to him any more. Never knew what he was thinking. Once, he had been an open book. She had been able to see him torture himself, could understand it, could help him.

Now...

I never know what you are thinking!

Think!

She had thought and thought, but there was no answer.

She knew how much the Order of the Phoenix meant to him. Knew how much the final downfall of Voldemort meant. Knew much Harry meant to him, all that was left of James and Lily.

She had all the pieces, but she could not put the puzzle together.

She had been with him as he rose and fell, passing the stages of his age and youth. As a friend, as a lover, as an acquaintance, and now, as a wife. And never before had she felt so alone.

People were always surprised when they met Remus and Aemilia, because they seemed so incompatible. Remus had a well ordered mind. He was rational, he was logical. _He ought to have married someone like that,_ Aemilia thought, watching him. He was talking to Sirius Black, and they both looked very sombre. _Someone like... Helena Weasley, or Niamh Virdis. Not me. Not _me.

She was Aemilia, a lawyer with the most untidy desk in London. Aemilia, who never planned anything. Aemilia, who let life happen to her. Aemilia, who would rush out as she was and walk the street with her hair down.

Aemilia, who was pregnant, and did not know how to tell her husband because she did not understand him any more.

§ § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § §

They were all wearing white.

Ginny thought, for one, that it looked rather stupid on Ron, particularly considering he looked like he was wearing a toga, but she didn't like to say anything. Now was not the time to tease her big brother. Not when he was scared out of his wits.

She wasn't particularly happy herself.

One month of hasty training for the five of them, the coterie, under a motley group of teachers. Sirius had taught them a bit of group defence, Snape some Occlumency and Legilimency, and Helena elemental magic, but Ginny did not think it was enough.

They were all wearing white.

Lambs to the slaughter.

Consider Phlebas, who was once handsome and tall as you.

"Are you ready?" Helena asked them. A strange man was standing beside her, and Ginny realised with a shiver that he was eldritch. A wight. A king of wights.

"I am ready," she replied bravely.

"I am ready." Hermione.

"I am ready." Luna.

"I am ready." Cho.

The four girls who, in his life, had meant the most to Harry Potter. Ginny, Hermione, Luna, Cho. Fire, earth, air, water.

Helena cast her eyes on Ron. Ginny saw her brother gulp. "I am ready."

"Who is the Necromancer?"

"I am the Necromancer."

Harry.

They were all wearing white.

All except for Harry Potter, who wore black.

§ § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § §

The elements. Four points, spirit in the centre. Passive resistance.

And Harry, the Necromancer.

Harry, Ginny thought, _be careful._

She remembered the day that he had proposed to her at the Ministry of Magic. He had been joking, of course - Remus had just proposed to Aemilia and Sirius to Regina in quick succession - but both of them had been floating on a cloud that day with elation.

It had been the best moment of her life.

"Who would you call back?" the king of the seelie wights asked.

"Lily and James Potter," Harry said.

"Albus Dumbledore." Remus and Severus together.

"Aberforth Dumbledore."

"Alicia Spinnet."

"Dedalus Diggle."

"Emmeline Vance."

"Charlie Weasley." That was her parents. Ginny felt tears prick at her eyelids and forced them back. Fire could not cry.

"Marlene McKinnon."

"Benjy Fenwick."

"Edgar Bones."

"Caradoc Dearborn."

"Gideon Prewett."

"Fabian Prewett."

"Dorcas Meadowes."

The list went on and on. So many dead to be recalled. So many had died... for them.

Ginny dimly heard Helena list off a whole lot of priestesses and looked around her. Telae Domus was quiet and green, but it was all too easy to imagine it full of screaming and blood and death.

Beside Ginny, Cho spoke up. "Cedric Diggory."

Sirius was last. "Regina Lupin," he said.

Peace before war.

"So shall it be done," Harry said. Ginny saw him take a deep breath. She braced herself.

"_Denicalis!_"

Fire erupted in Ginny. The djinn awoke.

Thou shalt not be a bystander.

We are here to fight.

And fight they would.

Fire, water, earth and air.

Djinn, undine, dryad and sylph.

And spirit.

Looking into the heart of light, the silence.

The dead returned.

Those are pearls that were his eyes.

And together, they stepped into the whirlpool.

§ § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § §

REVIEW!

Part V, _What The Thunder Said_, should be out in a couple of days.

Arawn (pronounced Ah-rah-oon) is the King of the Seelie Wights and the Otherworld.


	5. What The Thunder Said

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Nope, not me.

A/N: The last part of _The Wasteland_, in which just about everything is resolved - I hope! It's the longest part so far, and I think it's my favourite...

If it's confusing, I probably stole it from the poem. If it's in another language, I definitely stole it from the poem. Just for the record, the mantra _datta, dayadhvam, damyata_ is from one of the Hindu Upanishads and means 'give, sympathise, control'. TS Eliot uses it profusely in _The Wasteland._

I will say no more, except this - review _Mecca_, which went up yesterday. It is a one-shot follow up to Jerusalem that I've had written forever and never got round to posting... it's not particularly fantastic, but it's adequate (I think) and serves its purpose, which is to show the shaky friendship of Harry and Hermione at that stage.

Now I really will say no more.

****

Part V - What The Thunder Said

Who is the third who walks always beside you?

When I count, there are only you and I together

But when I look ahead up the white road

There is always another one walking beside you

Gliding wrapt in a brown mantle, hooded

I do not know whether a man or a woman

—But who is that on the other side of you?

- TS Eliot, The Wasteland, Part V, What The Thunder Said

Godric's Hollow, May, 1998

Here it began, and here it would end.

Here were arrayed the armies of the living and the dead, ready, waiting. The Order of the Phoenix, Dumbledore's Army, and those who had gone before.

And he, Harry Potter, the Necromancer.

The coterie stood behind him, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Luna, Cho. Already, there was something palpably different about them. Harry wondered if he cared.

There was something palpably different about him, too.

Several metres away, he could see his parents, standing, wands at the ready, amongst the ranks of the Order of the Phoenix. He had not spoken to them yet. He did not know if he could. He did not know if they would recognise him.

What is that sound high in the air? Murmur of maternal lamentation?

His felt his scar burn. He raised his wand. "They're coming," he said quietly.

Who are those hooded hordes swarming over endless plains, stumbling in cracked earth ringed by the flat horizon only?

And they came.

§ § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § §

Da.

Ron closed his eyes. He could feel the magic draining out of him, out of the coterie, but he knew he had to keep going.

You can do this, he told himself. _Keep breathing. Keep breathing._

Five of them. Just five. Animating an army.

I will not let them die.

He knew the others had changed. New things had woken in them. Djinn, undine, dryad, sylph. They would never be the same again.

Ever since the Department of Mysteries, when he had been immersed in thoughts and drowned in memories by the minds, the brains that passed through his hands, he had been different. He could read the Tapestry. He was... spirit.

Ron Weasley, the spirit.

He knew the Death Eaters were coming. He could feel them, sense them, their lives, pouring out over the brown wind. A damp gust, bringing rain,

It was so much harder now. The people they were animating were fighting, expending energy. His energy. But Harry's will, the will of the Necromancer, said they should be alive.

And Ron Weasley would keep them alive.

Datta: what have we given?

§ § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § §

Da.

Ginny threw her head back. So little left now, so little. So little, because she was clinging to herself.

London Bridge is falling down...

The djinn was screaming within her now, screaming for release. It wanted to burn her up from the inside out, give her to herself, send to the heavens on fiery wings.

I am the djinn and the djinn is me...

...falling down...

But Harry did not want her to become the djinn. Harry wanted her to be Ginny.

Harry needed her to be Ginny.

I am the djinn and the djinn is me...

Ginny... djinny... djinn...

...falling down...

With a scream, Ginny let go of Hermione's hand. Let go of Luna's hand. Let go of the coterie. Let go of life.

And held fire in the palm of her hand.

I will show you fear in a handful of dust.

The djinn flew, blazing, into the sky. To destroy.

Dayadhvam: I have heard the key turn in the door once and turn once only...

§ § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § §

Da.

Hermione Granger had never been so afraid in all her life.

She considered, normally, that she was a rational person who could deal with situations. She had found out that her parents were not her parents, and she dealt. Regina Lupin died, and she dealt. Dumbledore died, and she dealt.

But now she was a member of a coterie. She was earth, the rational, the logical, and she could not deal.

Amongst the rock one cannot stop or think... sweat is dry and feet are in the sand...

Ginny had been the first to go, flying, screaming, on wings of fire. She blazed through the Death Eaters.

Hermione was not so brave.

Then Luna, aetherial.

Hermione was not so brave.

Then Cho, bringing rain into the wasteland.

Hermione was not so brave.

She could feel the dryad inside her... but the dryad _was_ her. She could not unleash herself. There was nothing to unleash.

She was Hermione Granger, and there was _no_ book she could learn this out of.

She was scared.

But she was not alone.

Ron took her hand.

"Together, Hermione," he whispered. "Together, for Harry." He pulled his wand from his sleeve.

"Together," she answered softly, and found the dryad within.

Earth and spirit. Natural and metaphysical.

Hermione and Ron.

Damyata: The boat responded gaily, to the hand expert with sail and oar...

§ § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § §

It was inevitable that they should meet again.

"Hello, Bellatrix," Sirius said coolly.

"Come back for some more?" she replied sweetly.

"What do you think?"

A woman drew her long black hair out tight and fiddled whisper music on those strings...

Flying, faster, quicker, harder. She had been training.

So had he.

And bats with baby faces in the violet light whistled, and beat their wings...

"Sirius!" Regina's voice, behind him, somewhere. Regina's voice, telling him to be safe.

He would be safe. He would not die while she was living.

Bellatrix drew a breath. "_Avada Keda-"_

"_Stupefy_!"

Falling, falling, falling.

And behind her stood Neville Longbottom, straight-backed and proud, wand held high. "That's for my mum," he said clearly. "And my dad."

"Do... do you want me...?" Sirius asked hopelessly.

Neville shook his head. "Don't kill her," he answered.

"She's dangerous, Neville -"

"I know," Neville answered. "But I will show mercy."

And with that, he walked away.

Ganga was sunken...

Sirius pointed his wand at Bellatrix. "_Constringere!_" Ropes shot out of the end and bound her tightly.

He leaned down to check that they were tight. "Fly on, Bellatrix," he muttered. "Do not look back."

§ § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § §

It was inevitable that they should meet again.

"Hello, Peter," Remus said coolly.

Peter had his wand in his silver hand. "I - I'll -" he began.

"Don't talk," Remus interrupted, and fired the first spell.

He identified Peter's tactics at once. He was trying to get close enough to use his silver hand - to burn Remus apart.

After prison and place and reverberation...

"Remus!" he heard Aemilia shriek somewhere.

He turned. A mistake.

"_Argentum!_"

Somewhere, distantly, he heard Aemilia scream. He could not scream. He was burning, burning, burning.

He raised his wand with a silver covered arm. "Stu - stu -"

"_Stupefy_!"

Peter fell, James Potter behind him. Lily rushed to Remus's side. "Remus... Remus!"

It was hard to breathe now, the silver in his bloodstream. Lily at his side, Aemilia falling to her knees on the other, weeping, crying. "Don't die, Remus, don't die, don't die..."

He who was living is now dead...

He took her hand. "Aemilia..."

"It's only silver, Remus," she whispered. "Only silver. You can beat it."

Nature is inexorable.

We who were living are now dying...

Lily pointed her wand at him. "_Finite Incantatum!_"

A slight easing. "It's working..." he rasped.

"_Finite Incantatum!_"

Lily raised her wand for the third time, but Aemilia stopped her. "Let me," she said softly.

"_Finite Incantatum!"_

Three times is magic.

Co co rico co co rico...

Gone.

"Remus?" Aemilia asked quietly.

He heaved himself up on his elbows. "Aemilia," he said. Her name, nothing more.

"What are you thinking of?"

"How much I love you."

She threw her arms around him. Lily smiled, got up and followed James away.

"We're going to have a baby," Aemilia whispered to Remus.

With a little patience.

"I love you, Aemilia," he said. "How I love you."

§ § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § §

It was inevitable that they should meet again.

And he was powerless to do anything.

Severus Snape dispatched Lucius Malfoy and withdrew under the cover of the trees, and watched as Harry Potter faced Lord Voldemort.

"Hello, Potter," Voldemort said coolly.

"Hello, Tom," Harry replied, equally as coolly.

"Hiding behind your parents again?"

Harry ignored him. Severus realised that it was his Occlumency training that allowed Harry to keep his cool, and felt a traitorous pang of pride. "My legions have won, Tom," he answered.

"But you have not," Voldemort shot back.

"Yet."

What is the city over the mountains?

Severus had never seen so fast nor furious a duel. Harry and Voldemort were blurs, white and black, black and white. Behind him, the legions reformed, Dumbledore and the Potters at the head.

Black and white, white and black.

Cracks and reforms and bursts in the violet air...

"Vestis Acclaro!" Harry yelled, and the Tapestry revealed itself.

Voldemort laughed.

Harry looked up, agonised. "You have no thread!"

"I am outside the Tapestry," Voldemort said, "and so I cannot die!"

Falling towers...

A movement behind him caught his eye. Lucius Malfoy was struggling up. He pointed his wand at the legions, clearly not caring who he hit.

"Avada Keda -"

"NIAMH!"

He ran, knowing he was too late, knowing he could do nothing.

Oh lady, lady, lady.

The Killing Curse flew, green and undulant, from Lucius Malfoy's wand. Snape's shoulder caught Niamh in the stomach and they rolled safely out of the way.

And Ron Weasley fell...

Jerusalem Athens Alexandria...

...fell...

...Vienna London...

...fell.

...Unreal.

§ § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § §

Harry felt Ron die.

One to spin, one to weave, one to cut.

Snip.

"NO!" he yelled.

The coterie was faltering. They could not reanimate the dead much longer.

Voldemort laughed. Immortal Voldemort, who could not die.

All things are recorded on the Tapestry... but he has no thread.

Like Ron, Voldemort was dead.

Dead man walking.

He was the Necromancer. He could bring death... or life.

"_Mortalis!_"

Then spoke the thunder...

§ § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § §

Voldemort faltered. There was a bang and a cloud of smoke. Grimly, Harry waited.

The awful daring of a moment's surrender...

Voldemort was gone.

Tom Riddle stood in his place. And he laughed.

"You cannot defeat me! I have more magic at my command than you will ever imagine!"

Harry's arm blurred. Something silver went streaking through the air.

"But I have a sword," Harry said grimly.

Tom Riddle looked down, stupidly, at the hilt of Godric Gryffindor's sword protruding from his chest, egg sized rubies covered in red blood. His blood.

And he fell, fell, fell.

Harry Potter had won. Voldemort was dead.

But what was the price?

Da.

§ § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § §

He fell to his knees at Ron's side and shook him hard. "Ron! Ron!"

Hermione shook her head silently, tears streaming down her face. "He's gone, Harry. He's gone."

Harry gestured wildly about them with his arm. "They're gone too! But they're here! Ron! Ron!"

A hand fell on his shoulder. Dumbledore. "Harry," his old mentor said softly, "you must let him go. He's -"

"HE - IS - NOT - DEAD!"

"He is," Dumbledore said sadly. "He has gone to the Otherworld. I will watch him for you."

Harry stood and faced down Dumbledore, nose to nose. "He is not dead," he said between gritted teeth.

Ginny took his arm. Her wings of flame had faded now, but fire still burned deep in her eyes. "Harry -"

"I WILL NOT ALLOW IT TO BE SO!"

And the world changed.

§ § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § §

Helena clasped both her hands to her mouth. Harry's yell had brought the Tapestry back, but a different Tapestry, a new one, a warped one,

"Arachne, no!" she breathed.

A sin worse than necromancy. Changing time. Changing history.

"NO!" she yelled, grabbing Aralinda's arm. Dead Aralinda. "He can't do this!"

"HARRY!"

Someone was running, sprinting towards the boy. Running, even though it might be too late.

"HARRY!"

By this, and this only, we have existed...

Lily Potter grabbed her son, shook him. "Harry, no!" she said.

Three times is magic.

The Tapestry vanished.

Ron Weasley sat up. Hermione Granger threw her arms around him.

And Harry Potter fell, crying, into his mother's arms.

§ § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § §

"You saved me," Niamh said stupidly.

"In a manner of speaking," Severus said. "I rather expect Ron Weasley will hate me for eternity now."

Silence. Tender silence.

"I saw your son," Niamh told him quietly. Building a wall between them, higher, higher. Hadrian would be proud.

Severus did not say anything. There was nothing to say.

In this decayed hole among the mountains, in the faint moonlight, the grass is singing...

"He looks like Helena," she added quietly, "but he has your eyes."

Severus tenderly brushed a tear off her cheek. "One day, we will have a child of our own," he told her softly, "who will have your eyes, Niamh."

She threw her arms around him, wept into his shoulder.

He was flawed, he was dark and he was volatile, but he was _hers._

§ § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § §

Remus Lupin, Minister of Magic, began the cleanup. Aemilia, her hand in his, refused to leave his side.

Together, they stared down at the dead body of Tom Riddle. "What shall we do?" Aemilia asked him softly.

"Bury him," Remus answered. "We must honour the dead." He reached down, grimacing, and pulled the sword from Riddle's chest.

He dropped it almost instantly, swearing under his breath. "Bloody silver!"

Aemilia shivered.

He noticed at once. "Sorry, Aemilia."

She smiled weakly and drew a little nearer to him. "Just... stay away from silver, will you?"

"I'll do my best," he said, wrapping his arm around her waist.

That afternoon, it was gruesome work. Remus commanded workers as they gathered the bodies of those that had fallen and made preparations for their burials. Many had died.

But Aemilia was, inexplicably, happy.

These fragments I have shored against my ruins.

They had won.

Remus was safe.

And the space between the stars was shining.

§ § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § §

She found him standing alone, watching Lily hold her son. James had come up at some point and put his arms around them both. The family.

She put her hand on his arm. "Sirius?"

His eyes were full of tears. "Reggie," he whispered. "I've missed you so much."

Regina put her arms around him then, this achingly special, beautiful man. "I know," she said into his shirt. "I know."

Sirius was shaking with suppressed emotion. "He almost died," he said shakily, holding her tight. "Harry almost died! And... and I couldn't do anything. I couldn't save him, just like I couldn't save you."

She drew back and looked him in the eye. "I made my own choice," she told him softly.

He nodded imperceptibly. "I know."

"The war is won."

"I know."

"We... do not have long." She knew she was fading, that the coterie could not sustain the legions of the dead much longer.

He closed his eyes. "I know."

Three times is magic.

"Sirius? R-Regina?"

They turned to look at her, brown hair crusted with dirt and mud, clothes ripped, tears coursing down her face.

She was the most beautiful thing Regina had ever seen.

The girl's voice broke. "F-father? M-mother?"

"Hermione?" Regina said quietly.

She nodded. "Yes."

Wordlessly, Regina held out her arms, and her daughter rushed into them. A moment later, Sirius wrapped his arms around them both.

The sea was calm.

Family.

§ § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § §

His mother drew back at last. "I'm so proud of you, Harry," she told him, cupping his face in her hands.

Harry knew he was shaking, could not stop. "I almost destroyed everything," he whispered.

"But you didn't," his father told him, putting his hand on Harry's shoulder, "and that is what is important."

Ron groaned and got to his feet. "I feel like I've been hit in the head with ten Bludgers," he moaned.

"Stop whining, Ron," Ginny snapped.

Harry couldn't help but smile.

Ron caught his eye. "You all right, Harry?"

"No," Harry replied, "but I will be."

Ron fidgeted uncomfortably. "Um... hi, Mr and Mrs Potter."

James offered Ron his hand, and Ron shook it uneasily. "You did well," James said.

"None of this would have happened if it weren't for you, you realise," Lily said.

Ron grinned crookedly. "Thanks."

"You're quite welcome," Lily said.

Ron turned to Harry. "Harry, mate, have you seen Hermione?"

Harry pointed. "Over there."

Ron turned. Hermione was with Sirius and Regina. Family. "I guess it all came right for her," he said. He grinned again. "I'm glad."

"Me too," Harry said.

"Well... er, nice to meet you, Mr and Mrs Potter," Ron said. "I'd better... go and find my mum and dad. Let them know I'm all right. Coming, Ginny?"

"Not yet," Ginny replied.

Ron shot her a strange look, but loped off.

Ginny stuck her hand out for Lily and James to shake. "I'm Ginny Weasley," she said.

A wicked smile spread across James's face. "You're the one Harry _proposed_ to, aren't you?"

"Dad!" Harry exclaimed. Ginny turned scarlet.

"Let me tell you something, Harry," James said, still grinning mischievously. "My mother was red-haired. So is your mother - in case you hadn't noticed. There is a family tradition to keep up here. Don't break it."

Harry saw his mother catch Ginny's glance and roll her eyes. He smiled. "Don't worry," he told his father, "I don't intend to break it."

Ginny caught his eye and smiled. She did not need to do anything more. "I'd... better go and find my parents as well," she said. "Bye, Mr and Mrs Potter. Bye, Harry."

"Bye, Ginny," Harry said.

Now turn to Mecca...

James was still grinning wickedly. "Good move, son," he said. "That was _smooth_."

"James!" Lily scolded. "I'm sorry, Harry, your father hasn't had much of an opportunity to grow up."

Harry smiled. "I don't mind."

Family. And a future.

Datta. Dayadhvam. Damyata.

Harry realised he could hear someone singing. Together with his parents, he watched.

It was the Patil twins. Dirty, covered in blood and muck and gore, but smiling, Parvati and Padma walked across the battlefield. And they were singing.

"Shantih... shantih... shantih..."

Finis

§ § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § § §

REVIEW!

And read and review _Mecca_, which went up yesterday... it is lonely and needs reviews.

**Invented Spells In This Chapter**

_Argentum_ - the Silver Curse. Remus ends up covered in silver, which is - obviously - not good.

_Vestis Acclaro_- We all know this one now, don't we? It brings the Tapestry into the mortal eye.

_Mortalis_ - This invented spell of Harry's makes Voldemort mortal. His virtual immortality had placed him outside the Tapestry, but mortality brought him back in. This is why 'Voldemort' disappears and 'Tom' appears.


End file.
